


Mom's Birthday

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Substituted for Mary, Drabble, Father/Son Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:29:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>12-year-old Dean doesn't know what to make of what John has done to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mom's Birthday

It was Mom’s birthday.

He smelled of hard liquor and tasted of tears.

He was crying.

Dean wasn’t, but he was. Dean felt the tears falling onto his face, and it was so much easier to focus on Dad’s pain and sadness. He could understand that.

He didn’t understand what was happening. He knew what sex was, but … . This wasn’t adding up.

Dad tasted of tears and vodka, and Dad was sad.

"You look so much like her."

Dean nodded, agreeing with him. He remembered her, and he still had a couple pictures that he kept close to him but out of sight of Dad because he would get upset.

Dad was on top of him, and Dean’s bowlegs were hooked around Dad’s waist, and there was an intrusion inside of Dean. It was uncomfortable, but it didn’t exactly hurt. It was starting to itch around the entrance.

Dean didn’t say anything.

Sam was asleep in the other bed, completely conked out. He slept real heavy, and why shouldn’t he? He was eight years old and didn’t know about monsters. It came in handy when Dean had to carry him to the car in an emergency and didn’t want to wake him up.

Something … wet happened inside of Dean, and he finally made a sound. A squeak of surprise. Then Dad collapsed on top of him, Dad’s head near Dean’s, and the sobs were in Dean’s ear.

That was the first time. It wasn’t the last. Dean never asked Dad to stop. He didn’t feel like he could. He never asked himself if he liked it or didn’t like it. If he hated it. Dad couldn’t look at him the morning after, but Dean pretended like nothing happened and that helped Dad look at him again.

Dean learned how to make it good for Dad. Learned how to squirm and clench to make it worth his while. Learned how to use his mouth and throat. By fifteen, he was a perfect whore for his father.

Sometimes Dad didn’t cry. Sometimes Dad seemed to really enjoy it. And that made Dean feel not so empty. He could make Dad happy. Even when he messed up on hunts.

He noticed that Dad let Sam get away with more things if he approached him for sex. Blowjob in the Impala when no one was looking. Quick fuck in a bathroom. So instead of being completely passive, he started seeking Dad out for it.

He didn’t realize what had happened to him until he fell into Hell. There Alastair used it against him. There Alastair pulled the same damn tricks, but on purpose.

Dean didn’t believe Dad had raped and manipulated him on purpose. He didn’t want to believe.

When Castiel pulled him out of Hell, he finally cried. Cried for his loss of innocence. Cried for Dad. Cried over his own ineptitude at fighting Alastair off, at protecting Dad from the kind of shame that comes from fucking your own kid, at preventing the Apocalypse, at protecting Sam and teaching him right from wrong and who you can trust.

He didn’t tell a single person. He didn’t write it down.

He kept it locked up inside, and it remained that way until he died for good.


End file.
